This is a short chapter, but it is a transition to the next. I can promise you the next one will be chock full of content.

When you awoke in the morning, you got dressed and headed downstairs to breakfast. You sat at the table quietly, beginning to eat.

Your mother looked expectantly at you. For some reason, she was smiling brightly at you, paying you copious amounts of unwanted attention. You focused on the rice in your bowl, slightly nervous. What did she want now?

"You've been in a very good mood lately," she said, a knowing look in her eyes. "You seemed at ease during dinner last night."

Your father nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, it's good to know you're feeling better!"

"Uh… thanks. Yeah. I've uh, got something to do," you said, getting up and going to wash your dishes.

"Alright! Have fun! Your father and I will be going to work soon." your mother chirped as you left up the stairs in a rush.

"I think she's feeling better today." your mother said, now you were gone, to your father.

"I'm glad our daughter is finally back to her old self, or at least getting close." he replied, finishing his rice.

You closed the door behind your back as you walked into your room. Even though you knew your parents would be gone, you locked it as well. Just to be safe.

The red shirt lay on your bed, unwrinkled, despite how you clutched it that night.

You knew you'd already given it a quick looking over when you picked it up off the street, but you wanted to take your time as you examined it this time. Sitting on the ground, you took it in your arms, you peered at it silently. It had nearly invisible marks of the abuse Ranma had no doubt put it through. There were burnt areas, discolored parts of fabric, and sewn up areas where you guessed Kasumi had mended it. This was the shirts' history. It had been through so much, kept on going for so long.

Sighing, you ran a hand over it. It was really beautiful. You had never owned something so nice.

You laughed wryly. One man's trash is another man's treasure. You stopped abruptly. For some reason, you didn't like thinking of the shirt as Ranma's trash. That really wasn't doing it justice, was it? You knew, deep inside, that he probably had just happened to drop it, or he didn't mean to leave it and probably wanted it back. But the ugly truth was:

You didn't want to give it to him. You had an unconscious feeling of ownership that you enjoyed.

You disregarded any notions of returning the shirt. Standing, you unbuttoned the shirt clasps. Then you set it on your bed as you took off your current shirt.

Time to try it on.

You had doubts. What if it didn't fit? What if it was unflattering? You weren't skinny, you weren't really big. You had curves for sure, and this was a man's shirt.

Taking a deep breath, you put your arms through the sleeves, then buttoned it up.

When you looked at yourself in the mirror, you gasped in surprise.

This shirt clung to you, but not so much to be tight. It accentuated all the best parts of you, and toned down the not-as-good ones. It was a brilliant scarlet that suited you somehow. You were given the impression that this shirt would fit itself to any body type, suit anybody's features, could flatter literally anyone.

This was such a magical shirt. You felt so lucky to have it.

In just a few short days, it had become a serious staple of your wardrobe. But you could not be happy just yet. You had to tell Ranma about it. He had to know that this shirt belonged to you now.

You sighed as you sat on your bed. "What'll I do? Do I just tell him, or do I offer to give it back?" It was a difficult decision. "I don't know what to do."

Finally, you had an idea. It was perfect.

Thank you to all viewers and reviewers! I hope you read on.